Paranoia
by geek.but.you.love.me
Summary: She never realised there was a connection between love and paranoia. She would never have believed that being in love would drive you to kill someone. But they stand here now and he has his orders.
1. Routine

Its what's on the inside that counts.

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**Disclaimer: **

Well unfortunately, I do not own any part of this story that you recognise. However, If you don't it is completely and utterly mine.

Possibly.

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She never forgot to set the wards. Not once. She was too afraid of what was outside. She read the horror stories everyday, about the witches and wizards that mysteriously went missing, only random body parts turning up. Her position in the war meant she was a target, so she took the necessary precautions. But never for a moment did she think that she would be killed by what was lurking inside her walls not outside them.

She had a routine. One she carried out religiously every single day. Open the door, set the wards, take her shoes and coat off, collect the mail, throw it onto the ever-growing pile. Go to the fridge, collect a bottle of water, sit on the sofa and recheck the wards. Before she went to bed she would check them once again. Secure in the knowledge that they were set and that there was no way anyone would ever possibly get through them she turned off the lights. This was her first mistake.

She settled down in her bed, allowing the blissful waves of sleep to overcome her. She didn't hear him switch on the bedside light. Noises in the night she could handle, she didn't bother with them anymore otherwise she would never get any sleep. Unexplained light however she couldn't. That's what caught her subconscious.

Her eyes shot open, her hand automatically reaching under her pillow for her wand. She sat up. Pointing her wand in the direction that she could her the breaths coming from. As her eyes focused and she saw who was standing there, she spoke the two forbidden words. Ones she swore she would never say, not after the last time. Keeping her wand arm steady, her mouth formed the words perfectly, filling them with as much hatred as her small body could mange.

"Draco Malfoy."

She was certain that, even in the dim glow of the nightlight, she could see him smirking at her.

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**A/N:**

_So can you guess who she is yet??? If you are familiar with my other stories you will know, if not then take a guess. I would like to hear who you think it is. What do you think about the beginning? Let me know feedback is always appreciated:)_


	2. Final words

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Paranoia : Final Words

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Disclaimer: **

Well unfortunately, I do not own any part of this story that you recognise. However, If you don't it is completely and utterly mine.

Possibly.

* * *

She watched him ,wand still aimed, pick up one of the ornaments in the far corner of her room. He turned it upside down and back upright again, inspecting it. When he eventually put it down he gave her his verdict. "You changed everything." 

She stared at him, before speaking with fake confidence, "Well, once you realise that everything in your house has been touched by Death-eater scum, you generally decide to burn it all."

He let out a empty laugh, and moved to sit in the rather over-stuffed armchair that sat in front of her dressing table. He scanned the items sitting there. His eyes rested on the photograph in the silver frame. It was a picture of her and Potter, smiling at one another. He tilted its head towards it. "I see some things never change."

She looked at him for a few moments. "Well, you are the living proof of that aren't you _Malfoy_?" She spat out his name, like he was scum. Then she thought of something else. "How did you get in here?" She snapped at him. He smirked again.

"That's the problem with being paranoid. You are so concerned with what **_might _**happen, you forget to focus on what **_is _**happening."

"You didn't answer my question."

He raised one eyebrow. "I think I did."

He could see her properly for the first time since he had turned on the light. Her hair had changed from the vibrant red, her brothers wore, to more of a burgundy. Her skin was pale, possibly more pale than it should have been. It was still littered by freckles, and on this occasion it was tinted a deep rose colour, a sign of her growing anger and frustration with him. She wasn't beautiful, not by a long shot but there was something about her, an alluring factor that drew him to her.

She considered him for a moment, before speaking quietly, her wand dropping slowly. "Why did you become one of them? Did it give you an ego boost being chosen by him? Does it make you feel better seeing his mark on your arm?"

The words were spoken softly but he could hear the disgust dripping off them.

Draco looked at her and allowed his mouth to twist back into a smirk. "You did it too. You tell me." Suddenly her wand was back up and she was on her feet stalking towards him.

"I would _NEVER_ sign up for my own suicide through Tom. Don't you dare imply that I ever would. You do not have that right. You _never _did." Her voice was harsh and cutting. She approached him still. Once she reached the chair, he himself stood up and laughed.

"No, your right. You didn't sign up with the Dark Lord. But you are marked and to an evil man no-less." His long, elegant fingers traced the burned mark on her left wrist. It was the initials of the man she married, the man standing in front of her. She involuntarily shivered at the touch. He must have noticed this because a smug smile found its way back onto his face. He bent down to whisper in her ear, pushing her wand down so it was facing the floor. "Isn't that right Ginevra?"

"Its not the same." Her voice sounded as though she was tried to believe her own words , but was in fact failing miserably.

"Isn't it? My mark will be the reason I die, just as yours will be your reason. But of course, you knew that already. That's why you burnt everything, afraid I had put tracking charms on things. Set up wards on our old apartment. Became paranoid. Because you knew that you would ,one day, die as a result of our marriage."

He sat back down on the chair. She perched on the dressing table, taking everything in. After a few minutes of silence she spoke. "That's why you're here isn't it? You have to kill me."

He didn't speak. She took the silence as conformation. She let a short laugh, noticing for the first time that his wand was out and pointing at her. She realised that his earlier words were true. She was too focused on what might happen to realise what was happening. She close her eyes. If this is how she was going to die, then she might as well do it with dignity.

"I'm ready." she breathed out.

"Stupid Gryffindor bravery." He stood and took at aim, just slightly above her heart.

"You do know that I love you don't you?" She looked up at him with glistening brown eyes. "You taught me some amazing things-" She saw him looking at her with a heartbreak in his eyes. He wasn't sure he could do it, he took a deep breath and the words were spoken.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The green glow encase herself and the room. She watched the pained expression in his eyes as she closed her own, forgetting everything.

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When she opened her eyes again, she looked over to where his body had slumped into the chair he was sitting on previously. He looked like he was sleeping, just with his eyes open. There was nothing to indicate he was dead, except from the glazed expression in his eyes. The only place she could ever read emotion on him was through his eyes and that was only ever in moments of weakness, but it scared her how empty they were now.

She calmed her breathing before walking over to the body. She crouched next to him and spoke softly. "The problem with not being paranoid, is that you spend to much time imaging the obvious and not enough focusing on what could happen and most probably will."

Her fingers traced her initials on the inside of his wrist and she gave a sad smile. Before casting the concealment charm on the marks they shared. She doubted that any one would think that she was Ginevra Malfoy or '_gm_ ' as the mark proclaimed her nor would they put the connection with Draco Malfoy with the '_dm_' that was burned into her own skin but she couldn't take any chances. She couldn't risk being discovered as the wife of Draco Malfoy, traitor to the Order of the Phoenix. Her husband was right, the mark she shamefully wore on her wrist would be her cause of death. She knew that. She imagined the scenarios in her head over and over. It was after all what being paranoid was all about.

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**_A/N:_**_ Well I think this is it! If anyone wants a prequel to this little ficlet let me know as I have a few ideas. I liked this story. I tried to keep the characters in canon as much as possible. How did I do? Let me know **constructive** criticism welcomed. Well, leave a review and I'll answer them all. Thanks:)_


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